


tyger pax

by luftkommandant



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Father-Son Relationship, Flashbacks, Hurt/Comfort, I see him as like 16 in prime, I'm not gonna lie this is entirely a coping fic lmao, Injury Recovery, Megatron is a really horrible guy, Mental Health Issues, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, So yeah, Underage Rape/Non-con, because I need that shit in my life, bee is my sweet son, im a mess, kind of implied underage because bees not really an adult??, probably, ratchet is like a dad to bee, seriously fuck him, we pretend bumblebee can remember what happened after tyger pax
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-20 16:34:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9500270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luftkommandant/pseuds/luftkommandant
Summary: The first system to come online is his neural net. The nanoklik that happens, the pain almost sends him back into shutdown. Everything hurts. Primus, it's so close to unbearable, and Bumblebee would cry out if… if…His vocalizer.(Not being updated, it got too triggering)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i came up with this at like 4am and then i had nightmares so i decided to start writing it immediately because i need it  
> im not doing...... great rn but i hope this will help  
> please listen to the warnings this is hellish in the beginning and probly in the end too this is totally just a coping fic where i project all my problems onto my kins yea boi  
> poor bee tho holy shit
> 
> a cycle is about an hour, a nanoklik is about a second, a breem is about five minutes, and a klik is about a minute. for future chapters a solar cycle is a cybertronian day.
> 
>  
> 
> _chapter 1 edited: 1.30.17_

The first system to come online is his neural net. The nanoklik that happens, the pain almost sends him back into shutdown. Everything hurts. Primus, it's so close to unbearable, and Bumblebee would cry out if… if…

_ His vocalizer. _

A slight twitch runs through his frame, setting the sensors alight again when everything grinds against everything else. The only sound he can make is a soft whimper, barely audible with the  _ hole in his neck _ , and he decides to take stock of everything else first.

His panic-ridden processor takes a minute to separate the pain. With his optics still offline, he can't use sight to assess the damage, which means he has to use only the feeling. It takes a few breems, but the pain starts to separate into the different locations. Of course, Bumblebee’s neck is the worst, but what he doesn't expect is the pain between his—

The memory hits him like a punch from that monster. Writhing again to try and get rid of the sensation, Bumblebee’s intake gapes in pain and horror as he feels the transfluid leaking from his exposed array. He almost goes back into shutdown, but the training keeps him awake.

No, he can't remember right now, that will kill him. Right now, he has to focus on something else, on something external.

His prayer is answered by a voice. It's far away, but it's still something. Bumblebee whines again, willing himself to make a louder noise. A breem later, pedesteps reach his audio receptors, and he whines again. Even if the owner of the pedesteps is a Decepticon, he would willingly die at this point.

“Oh  _ Primus _ , what did they do to you?”

That voice is the most beautiful thing Bumblebee has ever heard. He whines, then flinches in pain, and tries to move something.

“How are you still… Nevermind that. Can you hear me, little one?”

Bumblebee answers with a twitch of his helm towards the voice. A servo presses over his spark, and he flinches, but the other servo goes to run soothingly along his shoulder.

“It's alright. You must be Bumblebee, the missing scout.” The first servo moves to cup his helm gently. “You're safe now, you're safe.” The second servo is removed, and Bumblebee can hear rubble crunching under the mech as his weight shifts. “Optimus! I've found Bumblebee!”

A small thrill goes through Bumblebee as he recognizes the name.  _ Optimus Prime _ , he's going to meet  _ Optimus Prime _ .

A second set of pedesteps, heavier than the first, comes towards them. The first mech hurries to snap Bumblebee's interface panel closed so he has some modesty, apologizing softly when the scout shivers.

“Bumblebee? Can you hear me?”

This is almost too much, finally meeting his hero  _ Optimus Prime _ , even in this condition. Bumblebee whimpers softly, feeling a larger servo brush some debris off his chest plates.

“Ratchet, he is in desperate need of medical attention. Can you carry him or shall I?”

“I think I can, he seems to have lost a good deal of weight.”

Ratchet pulls Bumblebee up and places over his shoulder. He whines quietly in pain, but doesn't struggle. Now that he's safe, Bumblebee edges closer to shutdown. With the warm frame holding him securely, he lets his own chassis relax, and a klik later he shuts down.

  
  
  


When he comes to again, one optic makes an effort to activate, but in the end it can't and Bumblebee's vision stays dark. Instead he uses his other sensors to examine his immediate surroundings. Stiff sheets, smell of antiseptic, labored venting and pained cursing, it seems to be a regulation field hospital.

For a minute Bumblebee just relaxes, still pretending the pain between his legs isn't there. Thankfully, someone cleaned him off, but he swears he can still feel the transfluid and energon seeping out. A shiver rolls through his frame at that thought, and a quick picture runs through his processor. The Decepticon leader over him, digging claws into his neck while he screams and ripping through metal as easily as paper. He whines pitifully, and twitches his hips to try and remove the feeling of something pressing between his legs.

“Shh, little scout, you're safe.” It's the same voice from before, Ratchet, and Bumblebee believes him easily. Servos run over his chassis, feeling for welds that didn't take right, and finding none. “You're doing well. You're a fighter, aren't you? You would have to be to live through that.” The medic moves his servos up to Bumblebee's helm, and does something with a few exposed wires. Suddenly, his vision comes back, blurry and dark at first but improving fast.

His optics focus slowly on the mech leaning over him. Ratchet has a kind face, just as Bumblebee imagined, and the young part of Bumblebee notices his optical ridges are almost comically large. Bumblebee stares up at him, and the medic smiles softly. It makes Bumblebee a little calmer, and as he relaxes Ratchet runs a light servo over the wound on his neck.

“I wasn't able to save your voice,” Ratchet explains, “Other than your neck, your limbs are quite damaged, and it's a wonder you lived. You're a little miracle, Bumblebee.” It feels like praise, the way he says it, and Bumblebee can't help but smile a little back. Ratchet notices, and his optics soften. “Are you cold?” Bumblebee nods, and a pang of grief for his vocalizer makes the action hurt. His smile fades. Ratchet reaches under the berth for a blanket and tucks it reassuringly around the scout. “Alright. I have other patients, but I'll be back in a cycle or so. Try to recharge. Hopefully we'll be able to spare something for the pain when you next wake up.”

With a last pat to Bumblebee's shoulder, Ratchet leaves, and Bumblebee watches him draw a curtain around the medical berth. A klik later, the full extent of his exhaustion hits, and before he can counter it Bumblebee is slipping into recharge.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS WHERE IT GETS FUCKING GAY

After a few solar cycles on the strongest pain medication Ratchet can find and the constant care of the medic, Bumblebee isn't feeling as terrible. Even without a voice, reduced to pantomiming everything, he's doing well for his injuries.

Until the first nightmare comes. Bumblebee wakes in the middle of the night, optics cycled wide as he feels phantom servos rake along his thighs. He jolts into a half-sitting position, and doesn't even feel his wounds protesting as he blankly stares at the curtain around his berth. He starts shaking, armor plating flaring and rattling with his panicked in-vents. Almost-silent whimpers come out of his ruined vocalizer, and his optics cycle jerkily, trying to focus and failing because they don’t know what to focus on.

Suddenly the curtain is pulled open, but when Bumblebee jumps and almost falls off the berth Ratchet is there, holding him up. “Shh, shh, little one, it’s alright,” he murmurs. Bumblebee throws his arms around Ratchet, pressing his faceplates into the joint between the medic’s neck and shoulder, still breathing shakily and whining, but calming down.

Even though it’s getting a little uncomfortable, Ratchet stays stooped over to comfort Bumblebee. “You’re safe now. It’s alright,” he says softly. A klik later, he adds; “Would you like to recharge with me and Optimus tonight?”

Bumblebee freezes, and Ratchet pulls back, thinking he triggered another panic attack somehow. Then Bumblebee’s optics focus sluggishly on his own, and the smaller mech nods slowly, almost as if he’s scared of being rejected.

Smiling softly, Ratchet stands back up. “I think I could carry you, if you don’t think you could walk,” he suggests. Bumblebee nods again, looking down sheepishly as he holds out his arms. Ratchet slips his own arms under the scout’s, hoisting him up. He puts one arm around Bumblebee’s shoulders, under his door wings, and the other holds the smaller mech’s lower back to Ratchet’s frame. Bumblebee shakily leans forward and puts his arms around Ratchet’s neck, venting against his neck as Ratchet makes sure he can take his weight, and wraps his legs around the other’s waist to hold him snugly. “Alright,” Ratchet says to himself, pressing his derma together.

As much as he might downplay it, Ratchet is strong, and even carrying a mech three-quarters of his weight he doesn’t slow down or vent that much harder. It only takes a klik or so to walk to Ratchet’s quarters, and the medic shifts Bumblebee’s weight to key in his passcode. The door unlocks on the first try, and Ratchet uses his hip to push it open.

“Ratchet?” Optimus questions, rising to his elbows on the berth. Bumblebee turns his helm, already almost back in recharge.

Ratchet lets the door close, making sure it doesn’t hit Bumblebee. “I was doing my rounds, and he had a panic attack. I thought he could recharge with us tonight,” he explains, knowing Optimus won’t be able to say no when Bumblebee is looking adoringly at him with sleepy optics.

Optimus lets out a vent, smiling softly. “Of course he can.” Ratchet smiles back, striding to the berth and turning to sit down with Bumblebee in his lap. Optimus helps pull Bumblebee to the middle of the berth, setting a pillow under the scout’s helm. Ratchet moves to be behind Bumblebee, who offlines his optics and hums contentedly as he lets Ratchet press lightly to his back. Optimus moves to be against Bumblebee’s front, letting the scout hold him by the edges of his plating while the Prime threads his arms around him. Bumblebee tucks his helm under Optimus’ chin and curls forward some.

It’s not even a breem before Bumblebee falls back into recharge. As the scout buzzes softly in place of snores, Ratchet presses his helm forward to gently kiss Optimus. Their servos meet, digits intertwining and resting on Bumblebee’s hip. When they pull back, Optimus smiles at his conjunx.

“He’s practically a sparkling,” Ratchet comments, keeping his voice down. “And even after what Megatron did to him, he trusts us.”

“He trusts you. And because you trust me, he does as well.” Optimus turns his helm down to softly kiss Bumblebee’s forehelm. Bumblebee shifts slightly, and presses the top of his helm to Optimus’ chestplates. Optimus smiles, and Ratchet immediately knows his partner has fallen in love with the little youngling between them. The thought makes him smile back, even though he knows they shouldn’t get too attached.

“Do you know yet what all happened to him?” Optimus asks, looking back up at Ratchet.

Thinking about the answer to that makes Ratchet feel slightly sick. “Well, it’s difficult because he can’t talk,” he stalls, “But, when I found him… I know he was tortured. Beaten, especially. His protoform and armor was cracked and shattered in places. And though he won’t respond when asked about what else happened, I have… good reason to believe he was raped.”

Optimus doesn’t respond, optics going wide. He looks down at Bumblebee for a moment, seeming to see him in a new light, and frowns.

Ratchet holds Bumblebee closer, as if he can protect the scout from what’s already happened. “He won’t let anyone get anywhere near his interface panel, but I know if… if it was Megatron who did it he must be damaged.” He knows he’s getting too attached to Bumblebee, but he can’t help but want to comfort and protect the youngling.

Optimus shifts closer to Bumblebee, untangling his servo from Ratchet’s to cup the scout’s helm soothingly. “We are both too tired for this conversation. We can try to talk to him in the morning, if he is willing.”

Though it makes him frustrated, Ratchet knows Optimus is right. It clicks suddenly that neither of them have slept through the night in… too long. “Alright,” he answers, offlining his optics. Optimus presses their derma together one more time, then they settle in for the rest of the night.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was hellish to write but its making me feel a lot better to scream into the void vaguely about what happened to me
> 
> warning for semi graphic description of rape in this one, please be careful if thats a trigger
> 
> not edited (yet) because im not feeling up to it but if theres any horrific errors please tell me

When Bumblebee wakes, the first thing he notices is that he’s alone. Looking around in the still-dark room, his chronometer tells him it’s morning. He realizes this is an inner room, probably for safety from bombs. Sitting up and carefully stretching, motion activated lights turn on, and Bumblebee spots a datapad on the table beside the berth.

On the datapad is a note. “ _ Bumblebee—Ratchet and I are working today, so we will be gone when you wake. Do not worry, Ratchet will come to check on you in a cycle. He says you shouldn’t be walking, so do not come looking for us. Optimus. _ ”

Bumblebee sits back in the berth, setting the datapad back down. He pulls the blanket back over himself, and lies back down for more recharge.

  
  
  


A cycle later, Ratchet types in his passcode and opens the berthroom door. The lights come on, and he smiles when he sees Bumblebee. The scout hugs a pillow to his chest plates, with a soft blanket pulled up to his chin, and he kicks one pede every few nanokliks. Closing the door behind him, Ratchet goes to lean over the berth, and uses two fingers to check Bumblebee’s temperature on an uninjured part of his throat. Bumblebee doesn’t rouse, but his helm turns toward Ratchet’s servo.

Ratchet sits down on the berth beside Bumblebee, watching with a content look as the younger mech shifts and nuzzles his servo. He gently rubs Bumblebee’s jawline for a klik, making him purr his engine happily. Checking his chronometer, Ratchet sees that he has about half a cycle before he has to return, and he decides to wake Bumblebee up to talk. So he shakes Bumblebee’s shoulder, as softly as he can, and a nanoklik later the scout’s optics online and he looks up at Ratchet.

“Good morning, little one,” Ratchet says, letting Bumblebee sit up and lean against him groggily. “I was hoping to talk to you about your injuries.”

Bumblebee stiffens, looking back down at the floor. Ratchet comfortingly rubs the youngling’s shoulder. “Of course, if you would like to wait, it can be put off a solar cycle or two. But we need to talk about what happened.” Bumblebee waits, then nods. “Today?” Another nod. “How about you use the datapad to type out what you want to say? Is that alright?” In response, Bumblebee leans forward and grabs the datapad from the nightstand, and opens a new note. He types a word, and shows it to Ratchet. “ _ Yes. _ ” Ratchet smiles, letting Bumblebee lean back into him and putting an arm around the smaller mech.

“Alright. I’ll start with an easy question. Can you tell me how long you were kept by the Decepticons?” Ratchet asks. Bumblebee thinks, then types out an answer. “ _ I don’t know. _ ” He looks up, looking slightly nervous. Ratchet frowns. “That’s alright. It’s entirely alright that you don’t know. Can you tell me why you don’t know?” The answer comes quick. “ _ It was dark. And my chronometer got messed up. _ ”

Ratchet nods again. “Who do you remember being there?” Again, Bumblebee thinks, and slowly writes his answer. “ _ Megatron. Starscream. Vehicons. Soundwave. The doctor and his partner. _ ”

Ratchet lightly squeezes the scout soothingly. “Did you tell them anything? Anything, even if you don't think it's important. You won't be in trouble and no one will blame you, I promise.”

The answer is a fast “ _ no _ ”, then after a moment Bumblebee adds; “ _ only my designation _ .” Ratchet visibly relaxes, not even realizing he'd been tensed up.

“I'm very proud of you, Bumblebee. Even most experienced soldiers would have a hard time not cracking under treatment like that. You did a good job, and I'm very proud,” Ratchet says. Bumblebee perks up a little and looks up at Ratchet, who smiles back at the youngling.

“Now, I'm going to ask some harder questions that might be difficult for you to answer. No one else will know what you tell me unless you give your consent to telling them. And I promise, no matter what you answer, no one will feel any differently about you. Is that alright?” Bumblebee nods again, not hesitating, knowing it'll feel better when he tells Ratchet. “That's very good. You're very brave, Bumblebee.” Bumblebee waves his door wings a little, loving the praise and reassurance. 

Ratchet raises a servo to pet Bumblebee's helm, still smiling. He takes a deep in-vent, then speaks before he can convince himself he's jumping to conclusions. “Bumblebee, were you raped?”

Instantly, any happiness leaves Bumblebee's frame, door wings drooping and shoulders sagging as he presses into Ratchet for comfort. He doesn't start typing for a couple kliks, and when he does it's slow and he hesitates before every glyph. “ _ Yes, _ ” says the datapad when he shows it to Ratchet. He looks miserable, coolant welling up in wide optics.

“It's alright, little one, it's alright. If you'd like to stop—” Bumblebee cuts Ratchet off by shaking his helm sharply, wiping his optics with a servo. “Alright. That's good, you're being very brave, Bumblebee,” Ratchet assures the small mech, letting Bumblebee press his face plates to the medic's chest. “Are you ready for the next question?” Bumblebee nods slowly, and Ratchet frowns before speaking. “Can you tell me who raped you?”

This answer is quick, and Bumblebee almost angrily shows Ratchet the datapad. “ _ Megatron _ .”

Optics going wide, Ratchet thinks about the size difference and realizes that Megatron must have actually  _ prepared _ Bumblebee for the scout's injuries to be this minimal. The thought makes him nearly sick, but he shoves the feeling aside in favor of talking to Bumblebee. “Can you describe to me, as accurately as you can remember, what happened? It's alright if you don't want to, or can't remember.” But even as Ratchet finishes talking, Bumblebee is typing with shaky but determined servos.

Ratchet has to take another deep in-vent before reading. And what he sees does sicken him even more. “ _ First he dragged me to his quarters, and he got stasis cuffs and put them on me but he didn't turn them on because I was already really weak. He wasn't even really rough with me, he set me down really gently on the berth and he found the release on my panel and held me down with one servo and fingered me with the other and it hurt really bad. But then it felt almost good and I was crying and screaming and he choked me for a klik before he got in me and I was lying on the berth on my back and he was standing and hurting me. I was crying really hard because it was scary and it didn't hurt that much and he was trying to make it good for me to make me cry more and he overloaded in me and I kind of went into shock and just stopped trying to fight and I wasn't crying anymore. Then he got on his knees and ate me out and I wasn't crying and he said I wasn't fun anymore so he fragged me again and got mad because I wasn't crying. And that's when he threw me out in that alley and you found me. _ ”

Bumblebee shakes as Ratchet reads, terrified of his new caregiver leaving him once he finds out what all happened. When Ratchet finishes reading, Bumblebee takes back the datapad and types something. “ _ I'm sorry _ .”

“No, no, you don't need to be sorry,” Ratchet says, helping Bumblebee climb into his lap. “It's alright, you're safe now. We're not going to let you get hurt any more.” Bumblebee presses his helm against Ratchet's chest plates, still shaking as he remembers things he'd blocked out until now. He whines, and Ratchet holds the youngling close. “No more questions for now, you need to rest. Do you want me to stay with you?” Bumblebee nods quickly. Ratchet opens a comm line with Optimus, and explains the situation. Of course, Optimus lets his conjunx have the rest of the day off from his duties, and as he terminates the comm link Ratchet feels Bumblebee stop shaking as hard.

“Alright. Do you want to go to recharge or would you like to tell me more?” Ratchet asks, careful not to sound like he's pressuring Bumblebee into talking more. Bumblebee picks up the datapad and types “ _ recharge _ ” before setting the tablet on the nightstand. Ratchet moves back on the berth until he can pull Bumblebee up to lie beside him, and wipes tears from the scout's faceplates. “No one blames you, Bumblebee. It wasn't your fault, none of it was. Everything is going to be alright,” he assures the smaller mech, who looks up at him with tears still welling up in his optics.

Bumblebee buries his face in between Ratchet's neck and shoulder, and wraps his arms around the older mech. Ratchet holds Bumblebee snugly, and soon feels him slip into recharge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im having a hard time with ptsd rn so the next chapter is gonna take a while unless something happens and sorry about that, just executive functioning and being tired all the time and bad memories


End file.
